


Hot Water

by owlmoose



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Porn Battle, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a successful mission, Melinda May and Natasha Romanoff tend their wounds, get clean, and find a way to relax. Not necessarily in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Water

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV and Femslash February 2014. Prompt words: mission, together, hotel, relax.

They stumbled out of the jungle together, Agents Romanoff and May, covered in sweat and mud and plant sap and more than little bit of blood -- mostly from the Hydra thugs they'd been sent in to take out, but Natasha could feel the jab where a knife had slipped through her defenses, and there was an angry gash across Agent May's forehead, up into her hairline. Natasha stopped at the edge of the dusty road and leaned her hand on a tree. A glance at the sky told her it was already late afternoon -- too late to arrange an extraction today. She looked at May, who acknowledged this fact with a nod, then lifted her chin to point down the dusty road.

"There's a motel on the outskirts of the next town," May said. "Quiet place, no one asks questions."

"Sounds good." Together they stepped onto the road, and they walked down in silence. No need to discuss what had happened, or what would come next. The former was done with and the latter could wait for a private hotel room. And some food. And a bath.

The motel was, as promised, quiet, and far from anything that might be considered dangerous. SHIELD intelligence had suggested that Hydra had no presence among the townspeople, just the early workings of that jungle base, which so far seemed to be panning out. Still, good to be cautious, and by unspoken agreement May held back while Natasha checked them in, using her Belize passport and best English accent. Fewer questions that way. She unlocked the door and left it slightly ajar; within seconds, May stepped into the dim room and locked the door behind her.

"Well." Natasha sat down on the edge of the bed farthest from the door. The bedspread was threadbare, but it looked clean enough. "I suppose that went well."

May shrugged. "As well as I expected." She pulled her gun from its holster, checked the barrel, reloaded it, and clicked the safety on before setting it down on top of a dresser. "Do you want the first shower, or--"

Natasha gestured toward the bathroom door. "Go ahead," she said.

"Thanks." May shrugged off her armored vest and then, in a single motion, pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the bed. Natasha found herself half-watching as May walked past her and into the bathroom. She moved gracefully, like a dancer, or a cat. Natasha had heard of Melinda May -- who hadn't heard of her, really -- but the two of them had never worked together until today. It had been a revelation: her ruthless efficiency, her skill with hand to hand and a gun. And it was refreshing to have a partner who didn't talk much, especially after so many recent assignments with Clint, who was a good partner but a real chatterbox, once you got him going.

She flopped back against the pillows, then hissed at an unexpected stab of pain in her shoulder. Craning around, she saw the spot where a blade had cut through her jumpsuit. The movement had opened up the wound, and now blood was oozing through the gash. "Dammit." The last thing she wanted was to get blood all over the bed. She glanced toward the bathroom. Well, May hadn't complained about sharing a room; presumably she wouldn't mind a quiet intrusion here, either. Natasha unzipped her suit and peeled it off, letting it fall at the foot of the bed, and then took off her undershirt before knocking on the bathroom door.

"Come in," May called out, and Natasha did so, letting the cloud of steam envelop her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the warm, wet air, scented with cheap hotel shampoo.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, closing the door again. "I need to wash out this wound."

May stuck her head around the shower curtain, looked at Natasha for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, you do. Come in, then. I'm almost finished, and the hot water might not last much longer."

Natasha finished undressing, then pulled back the flimsy shower curtain and stepped into the claw-foot bathtub. May stood under the shower head, water streaming off her shoulder-length hair and down her naked body, still half-slathered in soap. She stepped aside so Natasha could slip past her and into the stream of hot water. 

It was hot, all right, blissfully so. Natasha sighed and turned her face up into the deluge, relaxing as it blasted her in face, washing off the sweat and grime of battle. She turned around slowly, letting it soak her through. Then, opening her eyes, she grabbed the bar of soap, and stepped aside for May. "Go ahead," she said.

May shook her head. "You can't reach that spot. Let me get it for you." Natasha handed her the bar, and she turned Natasha around, rubbing her back with soapy hands. The harsh soap stung, but she hardly cared; May had strong hands, and she massaged Natasha's shoulders, her neck, her upper back. Natasha arched into her touch, and May stepped closer, close enough that Natasha could feel her breath on her ear.

Without a word, Natasha turned around to face her, hands resting on her waist. They stood, nose to nose, May's dark eyes staring straight into hers, steam from the shower beading in droplets on her forehead. And then May leaned forward to kiss her, mouth firm, hands cupping her shoulders. Natasha closed her eyes and kissed her back. Skin on skin, bodies slippery from wet soapy water, warm and alive, mouths opening under subtle pressure, her hand sliding into May's thick hair, May's fingers tracing a path down her spine and then curving around her ass, water still pelting the back of her head. Natasha brought her other hand around to cup May's breast, a thumb pressing into her nipple; May tipped her head back and exhaled, eyes closing.

"Yes," she said.

Natasha moved the pad of her thumb around the nipple, drawing a slow circle. May echoed the motion with the hand on Natasha's buttocks, stroking and squeezing, like the massage from earlier, but so much better. Leaning in for another kiss, Natasha slid her hand further down May's body, turning it around, fingertip pointing downward, skimming the sleek, wet hair to find her cleft. There she paused, until May kissed her harder, one hand firm on her shoulders, and pushed her through the water and against the shower wall. Natasha took the hint and slipped her finger inside. May's clit hardened at her touch, and Natasha began to stroke it, up and down, in circles, then up and down again. May let out another sharp breath, and then she followed suit, the hand that had been gripping Natasha's ass sliding around front, a finger slipping first inside her, then out, right over her own clit.

Natasha groaned and raised her hips, moving back and forth against May's hard strokes, moving her own hand in unison. Faster and faster, harder until she came, the waves breaking, her hips bucking against May's hand, May's clit quivering against her, and then Natasha felt May come, too, her whole body shaking as she let herself go.

It seemed like a long time that they stood there together, Natasha leaning the wall, May holding them both up, just breathing. Then Natasha lifted her head and looked at May.

"You were right," she said. "The water's getting cold." And had been, for awhile. Not that Natasha had really been in a position to notice.

May snorted, then favored her with half a smile. "Might not be the worst thing."

Natasha chuckled. "We should finish up, anyway."

"Right." May leaned backwards into the lukewarm water, rinsing the last of the soap out of her hair. "It's all yours, Romanoff." She stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel, then looked at Natasha, still half-smiling as she rubbed the water out of her ears. "And if you ever want to do that again? Let me know."


End file.
